To Become a Grey Warden
by MoonSword1994
Summary: Yvaine Cousland has always dreamt of becoming a true warrior and when Duncan of the legendary Grey Wardens grants her the opportunity she jumps at the chance despite the peril. Along the way she will discover true love, friendship, and what it means to put duty ahead of personal desires. Plot spans the whole game. Rated M for language and future chapters. Bioware again owns all.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: Castle Cousland**

Shields and silver armor glittered in the sunlight as the troops marched outside of the courtyard of Castle Cousland, their chain mail rattling as they moved at a steady pace, the swords on their backs swaying slightly as they walked, the shields at their sides emblazoned with the crest of the Couslands. This spectacle was all rather exciting to young warrior and Teyrness Yvaine Cousland as she watched from her bedroom window, she was supposed to be getting ready to meet her mother and greet Lady Landra Loren but she found the soldiers marching off to battle far more interesting than the dress on her bed. She pulled herself away from the window reluctantly, she would have rather been out there with them marching onto Ostagar than be trapped in this castle where she was to be Teyrn in place of her father.

"Teyrna, Mother would have said," chuckled Yvaine softly as she looked at the blue silk dress her mother and sister-in-law had picked out for her, then she looked at the armor she had placed on the mannequin beside her shield and sword. She smiled to herself, _'That seems much more appropriate, given the circumstances,'_ and she stuffed the dress into her rucksack, then she began placing her armor on, reveling in the feeling of steel and leather than that of silk.

"My lady, your father has requested your presence in the great hall," said the maid from outside her door.

"Thank you, Gwyn, inform Father I will be down momentarily," replied Yvaine as she adjusted the gauntlets on her wrists, she then pulled her sheathed long blade over her shoulder followed by her shield. She looked over at the mirror on her wall and smiled, although she was a highborn lady, she felt more comfortable being a warrior and was glad when her parents had encouraged her interest in swords when she was a small girl. They had started her training out with a private trainer whom visited the castle nearly everyday and taught her the art of swordplay, her father had supervised on her mother's request to make sure she was not harmed during the sessions.

Her sword's master had told her from the start she was a natural and had been surprised at how quickly she had grasped the concept of sword fighting, at his suggestion she was moved to the boy's training group where she sparred with her brother Fergus and his friends. She laughed as she remembered knocking Fergus onto his back during a rather spirited sparring match that had been brought about by a trivial argument about which Mabari war hound pup would be theirs, '_Speaking of which, where is that dog?'_ She looked around her room only to realize he was gone, _'Probably off hunting little field mice, poor mice,'_ she thought as she adjusted her golden hair in the twisted braid her maid Gwyn had taught her when she was about sixteen, her mother had insisted on the braid after she was told to stop chopping her hair off just to fit her helmet on her head.

"I hope Father wasn't expecting a Teyrness," she mumbled as she exited her room and made the long walk to her family's throne room, everywhere she looked there was evidence of her father and brother's inevitable departure for Ostagar with most of their family's soldiers. Her family's colors were flying from every turret and hung from nearly every wall, the soldiers that were leaving were polishing up their best armor and sharpening their blades as they loitered around the castle waiting for their turn to leave. She heard several of the soldiers talking quietly in the various corners, from what she heard as she passed by, there was someone at the castle of an important nature that made all of the guards quite excited.

_'Probably Queen Anora,'_ thought Yvaine, she rolled her eyes in exasperation, their queen was indeed quite beautiful but she was a not the warmest of people, she had learned this after King Cailan and Queen Anora had visited the castle during their wedding campaign. That was five years ago now when she was seventeen, Yvaine remembered being impressed with how beautiful and regal Anora had looked during dinner but she seemed rather cold towards her new husband whom flirted openly with other women, most of it directed towards the Elven maids. How long ago that evening seemed now, in the days before the war with the darkspawn and the various conflicts between the kingdoms that were beginning to be reported, when there was new hope for all of Ferelden. Yvaine sighed, lately nothing seemed to be going how her father, Arl Rendon Howe, and Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir had predicted long ago at that dinner when they were happily toasting the new reign of King Cailan and Queen Anora.

Yvaine arrived at the side door that led straight into the great hall, she was about to knock when she heard voices, her natural curiosity got the better of her, inclining her to watch the scene unfolding by looking through the decent sized crack in the door. She could see her father standing by the fireplace, several troops were lining the room, two were blocking the man her father was obviously talking to so she could not see him clearly.

"I trust, then, that your troops will be here shortly?" she heard her father Teyrn Bryce Cousland say to an unknown man, his voice echoing in the large room.

"I expect they will start arriving tonight, and we can march tomorrow," said a voice Yvaine recognized as Arl Rendon Howe's and she pressed herself closer to the door to hear clearer what they were saying, "I apologize for the delay, my lord. This is entirely my fault."

"No, no," said Bryce, and she watched him turn to face Howe, "The appearance of the darkspawn in the south has us all scrambling, doesn't it? I only received the call from the king a few days ago, myself. I'll send my eldest off with my men. You and I will ride tomorrow, just like the old days!" Bryce moved from his position by the fireplace and stood next to his old friend.

Yvaine looked at her father and Howe, she was struck at the stark contrast of both of these men especially in appearance. Her father still looked young with a sharp jaw line and his other features softer though his hair was shorter and had gone gray, he stood proudly with his head held high whereas Howe seemed to stoop with age and the stress of his many years in both war and politics. His hair was thinner than her father's and his nose was noticeably larger with a decent sized bump protruding from the bridge, his eyes were smaller and more beady like those of a rat whereas her father's always twinkled with a sparkle of youth and adventure. Howe and her father both had beards though her father's was much more filled in and gave him the look of a king whereas Howe's only increased his likeness to a rat.

"True," said Howe cooly, as he dismissed his guard, "Though we both had less gray in our hair then. And we fought Orlesians, not. . .monsters."

Bryce's laughter filled the great hall, "At least the smell will be the same."

Yvaine could no longer resist being out of the loop of the conversation and quietly opened the door, walking to her father with the grace and majesty her mother had instilled within her since she was a small girl. Bryce turned to his youngest and smiled as he watched her enter the room, she returned his smile, she always enjoyed spending time with her father even if it was spent attending strategy meetings or something just as important where she was required to only speak when given the opportunity. Although she had been raised to have her own opinion and speak her own mind, most soldiers and other courtiers were not used to hearing a woman of such status speak in the manner she did, most were appalled to hear that she spent her time sparring instead of sewing.

"I'm sorry pup; I didn't see you there," said Bryce warmly, he turned to Howe, "Howe, you remember my daughter Yvaine?"

"I see she's become a lovely young woman," said Howe a gnarled grin etching his features, Yvaine felt her skin crawl, "Pleased to see you again, my dear."

"And I am pleased to see you, Arl Howe," said Yvaine, a smile ghosting her lips as she looked at the elder man, she continued with the pleasantries that were expected of a person of her station, "Tell me, is your family with you?"

"Oh no, dear," said Howe, "I left them behind in Amaranthine, well away from the fighting going on in the south. They do send their best wishes, however. As a matter of fact, my son Thomas asked after you. Perhaps I should bring him with me next time?"

"As flattered as I am," said Yvaine, taking great pains to not offend the Arl though she desperately wanted to put him in his place, "I do not enjoy the idea of an arranged marriage, I would prefer to marry on my own terms if I am to marry at all."

Bryce chuckled warmly to the obvious disapproval of Howe, "That's my fierce daughter for you, Howe, she has a mind of her own these days, Maker bless her heart."

Howe nodded slightly, "This opinionated mind she possesses is likely the result of you bringing her up as a warrior, how unique that is, Cousland."

"Indeed," said Bryce coldly, always defensive whenever his daughter's upbringing was brought up, "Anyway, pup, I have summoned you here for a reason. As you know, your brother Fergus and I are riding south to assist King Cailan in the war against the darkspawn, and until we return you are in charge of the castle."

Yvaine nodded, her jaw set in determination, "Yes, sir, Mother has already informed me of the situation."

Bryce sighed, but he was still smiling, "I guess it is nearly impossible to get the upper hand on your mother when it comes to telling you anything that goes on in this castle."

"Indeed," giggled Yvaine, then she became serious, "Though I would prefer to ride into battle with both you and Fergus, Father."

"I know, dear girl," said Bryce, "You'd probably prove yourself an excellent soldier but I am not willing to deal with your mother if you ride off to war with us. You know she'd kill me if I let her only daughter go to war, she's already tearing her hair out over Fergus and I leaving."

"Perhaps I could convince her to let me go," suggested Yvaine hopefully even though she knew in her heart that was a lost cause in and of itself.

"I doubt that would get you anywhere," laughed Bryce, "You know how your mother gets, and she made it clear there would be no debating the issue."

Yvaine sighed, she knew her father was right about her mother and it was frustrating, all she wanted to do was become a true warrior instead of only dressing and practicing like one while still being expected to behave and speak as a noble lady.

"Dear, this is no needless task," said Bryce tenderly as if sensing his daughter's disappointment, "I ask you to take a great deal of responsibility. Only a token force is remaining here, and you must keep peace within the region. You know what they say about mice when the cat is away, yes? Oh, there is also someone I want you to meet. Please, show Duncan in."

The knight behind Bryce gave the signal and the guards at the door opened the door to reveal an intimidating yet surprisingly welcoming man, he was about as tall as Bryce and looked to be only a few years younger though his hair which was pulled into a ponytail, was still as dark as a raven's feather matching his beard. His skin was a coppery color that seemed to shimmer in the firelight as he passed by the torches in the room, he wore armor that seemed to be custom made, indicating that he not the typical warrior.

"It is an honor to be a guest within your hall, Teyrn Cousland," said Duncan as he stood between Howe and Bryce as if they were all friends from a long time he spoke, and Yvaine felt both at ease and on edge, as if every word he spoke was of a great deal of importance yet he still wanted those listening to remain calm.

Howe appeared rather unsettled and surprised that Duncan was here at the castle though he was quick to cover his shock, "Your lordship, you didn't mention that a Grey Warden would be present."

"So you're why the knights have been so excited," said Yvaine, smiling at Duncan, "and here I thought the Queen was visiting."

Duncan laughed, "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or complimented that I excite knights as Her Majesty does."

Yvaine laughed with him, she knew her comment was probably not what her father and Howe expected but it was an ice breaker that seemed to be needed at this moment in time.

Bryce glanced at his old friend, a frown creasing his brow, "Duncan arrived just recently, unannounced. Is there a problem?"

Yvaine looked at Howe whom seemed to be having an inner struggle with himself about what to say regarding Duncan's presence in the castle, "Of course not, but a guest of this stature demands certain protocol. I am. . .at a disadvantage."

Yvaine could tell he was making up what he was saying, while having a Grey Warden in the house did require a particular welcome, it was not often required of other guests of the host to demonstrate the same splendor as the person the Warden was visiting.

"We rarely have the pleasure of seeing one in person, that's true," conceded Bryce, then he looked at Yvaine, "Pup, Brother Aldous taught you who the Grey Wardens are, I hope."

"Yes, Father," replied Yvaine proudly, "They're an order of great warriors."

Bryce swelled with pride, "They are the heros of legend, who ended the Blights and saved us all. Duncan is looking for recruits before joining us and his fellow Wardens in the south. I believe he's got his eye on Ser Gilmore."

Duncan nodded but then looked over at Yvaine, "If I might be so bold, my lord, I would suggest that your daughter is also an excellent candidate."

Yvaine blushed, something she did not often do, she felt honored and surprised that Duncan thought of her as a potential candidate to become a Grey Warden, she hoped her father would allow her to at least try to become one, this was the chance she had been waiting for her entire life. She looked to her father hopefully but she could already see his mind was made up and it was against what she wanted to be the answer.

"Honor though it might be, this is my daughter we're talking about," said Bryce fiercely, moving between Yvaine and Duncan as if trying to protect her from him, though he did not pose a true threat.

"Father," said Yvaine quietly, not wanting to rouse his anger further, "I rather like the idea of becoming a Grey Warden, I mean, is there a reason I should not?"

Howe chuckled, "You did just finish saying that Grey Wardens are heros, old friend."

Bryce glared at both Duncan and Howe, "I've not so many children that I'll gladly see them all off to battle. Unless, of course, you intend to invoke the Right of Conscription . . .?" He seemed most irritated with the thought of Duncan using this right, Yvaine wanted to ask what it entailed but by the way her father was standing and the tone in his voice, she decided that was a question for another time.

"Have no fear, Teyrn Cousland," said Duncan calmly, obviously he had dealt with resistance such as this before, "While we need as many good recruits as we can find, I've no intention of forcing the issue."

Bryce seemed relieved and stepped aside, "Pup, can you ensure that Duncan's requests are seen to while I'm gone?"

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine, nodding, "I would be honored to assist the Grey Wardens in anyway I am able."

"Thank you, my lady," said Duncan kindly, "I'm glad to have your assistance, you seem to be a capable woman and your father is right to trust you with Highever."

"You're most kind, Warden," said Yvaine, inclining her head slightly in a small bow.

"Please, call me Duncan, as the rest of the soldiers do," said Duncan, she smiled and was glad he was against the usual protocol that ordinarily ran their lives, and the familiarity in way he spoke and acted towards her was almost like that of an uncle to his favorite niece.

"Now that we are all better acquainted," said Bryce, cheerfully, "Yvaine, find Fergus and tell him to lead the troops to Ostagar ahead of me."

"Yes, of course, Father," said Yvaine deflated, "Do you know where Fergus is? He always seems to be where he should not be"

"For once he's upstairs in his chambers," said Bryce sadly, "spending some last moments with his wife and my grandson, your nephew. Be a good lass, and do as I've asked. We'll speak again soon." He embraced her tightly as he often did whenever he dismissed her, and she returned the gesture with equal strength, clutching onto him fearful that this maybe the last time she would be able to be her father's little girl and find comfort in his arms.

"I'll miss you terribly, Father," whispered Yvaine, trying to stem the tears that threatened to release.

"And I will miss you, Vaine," said Bryce quietly, looking into his daughter's eyes and brushing away a few stray blonde hairs that hung in her face, "I will be home before you know it and then we'll talk about you joining the Grey Wardens."

Yvaine looked up at her father beaming, she was glad he would at least consider the idea of her being a Grey Warden even if it was after the war, "I love you, Father."

"And I love you, pup," replied Bryce softly, releasing her completely, "Now, I have important matters to discuss, run along and find your brother."

Yvaine nodded as the men dispersed, Duncan stood away from her father and Howe whom were standing by the fireplace, she thought this was the perfect opportunity to speak with him more about the Grey Wardens. She walked over to where he stood, to his obvious surprise.

"I'm sorry, my lady," said Duncan quietly, "but I believe your father wishes to speak to the arl and myself alone." He looked at her and inwardly smiled, she was as much her father's daughter as she was her mother's in both looks and temperament, the Couslands had certainly broken the mold when they created their youngest child.

"Oh, I was just hoping to ask a quick question or two," sighed Yvaine turning to leave, faking her disappointment, "but I understand you must be very busy—"

"Wait, my lady," said Duncan quickly, he seemed very excited to have someone ask something of him that was not help, "I doubt your father would mind a slight delay in our meeting."

Yvaine looked around for anyone who might listen in before she proceeded to speak, "Are there really darkspawn in the south?"

Duncan nodded solemnly, "Indeed. We spotted a horde assembling in the Korcari Wilds not three weeks ago. Luckily, King Cailan took us at our word and marshaled Ferelden's forces quickly. The first battles have already been fought. Your father and I must move quickly."

"Sounds very exciting," said Yvaine, a grin breaking out across her face, "Duncan, just how many darkspawn are there?"

"Thousands," said Duncan grimly, "Perhaps ten thousand or more in this horde. Normally, the darkspawn stay in the Deep Roads. It bodes ill that so many risk the surface."

Yvaine could tell this situation was far more serious than she had first thought, "How much danger are my father and brother in fighting against the darkspawn?"

"Well," said Duncan hesitantly, "I understand the first battles have gone rather well."

"Indeed," said Howe proudly, "Are the Grey Wardens sure this is a Blight and not simply some large darkspawn raid?"

"No archdemon has been spotted yet, my lord," admitted Duncan, "But with my entire soul, I believe this is a Blight."

"I wish we shared your faith," said Howe smugly, "I suppose we shall see for ourselves when we arrive at the king's camp."

Duncan shook his head, it was clear to Yvaine he was used to dealing with those who doubted his word, and it was not easy no matter how many times it happened.

"Sir," said Yvaine, walking Duncan away from her father and Howe so they would definitely not hear her next question, "Would you really recruit me for the Grey Wardens?"

"Of course, my lady," said Duncan, smiling at her eager face, "You are young, skilled, and eager for battle, or so your father has told me. The Grey Wardens do not recruit simply anybody, and I intend no flattery when I say you show promise. The old treaties allow me to conscript you even against your father's wishes, but I will not do so. Our order is too small to risk animosity with Ferelden's nobility."

"And glad I am to hear it," said Bryce, he had heard his daughter's question to Duncan but until now had chosen to remain quiet.

"It is tempting, your Lordship," said Duncan glancing at Yvaine as he spoke, "But I am content to see what other candidates your castle offers."

"Good," said Bryce sharply, "As much as I love to indulge my daughter, I am not about to agree to signing her over to you during a war, no matter how much you ask."

Yvaine cast her eyes down at the floor, this seemed to be a rather awkward situation for all persons involved, including herself, "Duncan, did you really travel all of this way just to meet Ser Gilmore?"

"Unfortunately," said Duncan hanging his head slightly, "I have only found a couple of worthy candidates in my travels across Ferelden. Your father invited me here, suggesting this Ser Gilmore. If he is not suitable, I will head south and join up with the king."

"You know King Cailan?" asked Yvaine slightly in awe of Duncan.

"Not well," chuckled Duncan, "King Cailan is an eager young man who has shown great wisdom in responding to the darkspawn threat."

"I've heard he's a bit enraptured with the Grey Warden legend," sneered Howe, "and that is the reason why he caters to your order."

"Howe!" snapped Bryce, "That is unworthy of you."

"He only repeats what we've all heard," said Duncan calmly, "Whatever the king's reasons, I'll take his support. The priority is defeating the darkspawn before they threaten all of Ferelden."

"I shall leave you to speak with my father and the arl, sir," said Yvaine, bowing slightly to Duncan rather than curtsying, which would have been difficult to accomplish in her armor.

"I have enjoyed our talk, my lady," said Duncan bowing to her fully, his right arm across his chest.

"If I am to call you Duncan then you are to refer to me as Yvaine," said Yvaine, smiling at the Warden.

"Yes, Yvaine," said Duncan smiling back at her. She was liking this Warden more and more, he like her father, saw beyond her title and the initial expectations that accompanied it, which could only mean there were more like them in the world.

"Now, pup, you must go and speak to your brother," said Bryce a little more sternly than before, "The arl, Duncan, and I have important business to discuss and we've had enough delays as it is."

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine and she turned away from Duncan, ready to leave the room when she suddenly remembered she needed to give her blessing to the arl, as a sign of respect and courtesy.

"Arl Howe, a moment if you please," said Yvaine, giving her best fake smile to the arl, ever since she was a small child she had always felt a reason to distrust him through he had rarely spoken to her until she was much older.

"Yes, my lady?" asked Arl Howe, slightly annoyed by her request.

"I just wanted to wish you well in the upcoming battle, sir," said Yvaine, giving him a curtsy.

"I. . .thank you, my lady," said the arl, stunned and seemed to be ashamed to have received her blessing, "That is. . .quite unnecessary."

"I should be going," said Yvaine bowing to her father, "It was an honor meeting you, Duncan, and a pleasure seeing you again, Arl Howe."

"A pleasure as always to see you, dear girl," said Howe his gnarled smile returning.

"I am glad to have met you as well, Yvaine," said Duncan, bowing again.

* * *

Yvaine turned and left the great hall, after this meeting she had mixed feelings, something in her was unsettled and the arl's presence had not helped her a great deal but having Duncan around seemed to be a good omen. The fact the arl's men were delayed was something to ponder, it was said he had the swiftest men in all of Ferelden but poor weather had delayed them? That seemed too much of a stretch for even the arl, whom was notorious for telling stories about how his men had braved a flood to aid King Maric during the Orlesian campaign. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts she almost ran straight into Ser Gilmore, who's quick thinking prevented the accident.

"Vaine, please forgive me," stuttered the knight, as he helped her steady herself, "I thought you might have seen me or something—"

Yvaine laughed at her own clumsiness, "It's quite alright, Gil, I should have paid more attention to my surroundings. A great warrior I've turned into, can't even keep myself focused on walking while I'm thinking."

"We all have an off day," said the knight smiling, "Even a warrior such as yourself, Vaine, will have at least one bad day before their time on this earth is finished."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Yvaine smiling brilliantly at the young knight, her childhood friend and favorite sparring partner.

Ser Gilmore looked down at the young Teyrness, blushing slightly as he noticed how beautiful she appeared in this particular light, "Before I forget, the reason I was looking for you is your dog's causing some trouble in the kitchen larder. Nan's threatening to quit if it doesn't get resolved quickly and your mother seems to take her threat most seriously."

"Nan's been with my family since I was born," sighed Yvaine, smiling, "She was my nanny until I turned sixteen, she's not going to leave over Gawain raiding the larder."

"At any rate, I'd rather see the situation solved," said Ser Gilmore hastily, "While you are fortunate for having your own Mabari, he's sometimes a nuisance since he only responds to your command. I've also been asked to accompany you until the task is done."

"Gawain's harmless," said Yvaine brushing aside his concern, "He's more of a teddy bear than a vicious war hound, well, most of the time."

"Still, I don't want to take the chance of an innocent person getting bit," smirked the knight, "And your mother is threatening to have him sent off with your father like Fergus' hound if he continues to cause trouble."

Yvaine rolled her eyes, "She's always hated Gawain, let's go get the mutt out of trouble."

"Of course, Vaine," replied the knight nervously, "Before we go, might I beg a question?"

Yvaine blinked, it was not like Ser Gilmore to request her permission to ask a question even if it was personal, "Of course."

"Is it true that there's a Grey Warden in the great hall, and that he's been asking after me?" asked Ser Gilmore his hands visibly shaking, from excitement or nervousness, Yvaine could not tell.

"Yes on both counts," said Yvaine as they started walking towards the kitchen.

"Maker's breath!" exclaimed Ser Gilmore, "Can you imagine it? Me, as a Grey Warden?! It would be like living out one of my fantasies if I was selected."

"Your excitement is contagious, Gil," laughed Yvaine glancing over her shoulder back at him, "By the way, I'm glad you're here with me, it gives us a chance to talk like we used to."

"I know what you mean," said Ser Gilmore blushing, "It has been a while since we've been able to talk, as friends I mean, like we used to during our training days."

"Do you still do that move with your sword and shield?" asked Yvaine remembering back to when they were children sparring with each other in the courtyard.

"You mean my signature bash-stab move?" asked Ser Gilmore, grinning at her, "Why yes I still do use it, in fact, that move is why I've won so many tournaments."

"Not conceded at all, right, Gil?" teased Yvaine and they shared a laugh before getting cut off by a brash woman yelling obscenities behind the kitchen door.

"Something tells me Nan is less than happy," remarked Ser Gilmore as Yvaine hesitantly opened the door, neither looking forward to the wrath of Nan.

"Get that bloody mutt out of the larder!" shouted Nan to the two elves standing before her, their heads hung in shame.

"But, mistress! It's not letting anyone near it!" protested the young girl elf, and Yvaine wanted to tell the girl it was pointless to argue with Nan when she was in one of these moods.

"If I can't get into that larder in the next five minutes, I'll skin both you useless elves, I swear!" shouted Nan and Ser Gilmore decided now was the time to intervene.

"Peace, good woman, we're here to help . . ." started Ser Gilmore before Nan cut him off.

"You!" exclaimed Nan when she turned around and saw Yvaine standing behind her with Ser Gilmore, "That bloody beast of yours has gotten into larder yet again! I swear, that mongrel should be put down."

"I'm sorry, Nan," said Yvaine, feeling like she was six years old again with her hand caught in the pastry filling, "I'll get him out of there for you."

"Good," said Nan shortly, "Get him out and make sure he doesn't get back in there! If he gets back in there, I swear I'll quit!"

"Nan," said Yvaine calmly, "You'd never quit over something like this, I was much worse than Gawain is and you still stayed."

Nan sighed, "That you're right about. Now please, I have a splitting headache, just get that mongrel out of there before he ruins the roast for dinner. I have a castle full of hungry soldiers and the last thing I need is some bloody mabari war dog eating all of the food in Highever."

Yvaine stifled a giggle as she and Ser Gilmore entered the larder, closing the door behind them, and Gawain jumped up on Yvaine and licked her face in greeting, his muzzle perfectly meeting her own nose.

"Down, boy, down," laughed Yvaine, pushing the great hound off of her, petting his head as he returned his paws to the floor, then he started sniffing around the floor, wagging his tail, looking at both Yvaine and Ser Gilmore imploringly.

"Look at this mess!" sighed Ser Gilmore, "Maker, how did he even get in here?"

"Probably snuck in when one of the servants left the door open," remarked Yvaine as she watched Gawain walk about the floor, barking at a corner, then turning back to them spinning around in place.

"It does seem like he's trying to tell us something," observed Ser Gilmore, before Yvaine could respond however, the larder became filled with the clattering of nails on the floor and she caught sight of what Gawain had been trying to tell them.

"Rats!" shouted Yvaine, unsheathing her sword, she stared down at the vermin, she could see their glowing red eyes and the quills sticking up from their backs, hidden in their fur. Some had their teeth bared in a snarl others were bouncing around trying to avoid Gawain whom was growling at the beasts menacingly.

"How do you want to approach this, Vaine?" asked Ser Gilmore, his sword raised, "The old bash and slice routine?"

"How is that different from the bash and stab routine?" asked Yvaine, a grin flickering on her face, as she mentally counted the rats, there were fourteen in total not too much of a challenge for seasoned warriors such as them.

"Slicing's more effective against something this big," joked Ser Gilmore and they started attacking. Yvaine raised her sword and brought it crashing down through the neck of the nearest rat, Gawain reared back on his hind legs and brought his front paws straight down on the back of another rat, his nails piercing through the rat's toughened skin. Ser Gilmore blocked a rat that had decided to jump with his shield, Yvaine chopping its head off as it flew passed her blade, blood splattering all over them as the carnage continued.

When all of the rats were dead, Yvaine reached for the rag she kept tucked in her belt and wiped her sword perfectly clean and then she put her sword back behind her head, re-sheathing it and she observed the mess, knowing Nan would probably be angrier about the rats' blood all over the floor than her dog in the larder.

"Those were Korcari Wild rats," said Ser Gilmore looking down at the large rat corpses that littered the floor, "These giant rats remind me of the start of every bad adventure story my grandfather used to tell me when I was a child."

"At least Gawain was in here for a reason rather than to just cause trouble," sighed Yvaine, wiping her face haphazardly with a cheese cloth she found on one of the barrels, then she handed the cloth to Ser Gilmore, "Come on, we should tell Nan what happened."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" asked Ser Gilmore uneasily, as he wiped his face with the cloth on the clean side, "I mean, she almost quit over a dog in the larder, what do you think she'll do if she finds out there were Korcari rats in here as well?"

"Demand a hanging for whomever let the rats in," said Yvaine simply as she opened the door to the kitchen where Nan and the other servants were waiting. Nan looked menacing with her arms crossed and a deep frown decorating her mouth, just as Yvaine remembered her from when she was small.

"Well, here he is, and prouder than ever," sneered Nan as they reappeared.

"I better get going, since you have Gawain well in hand," said Ser Gilmore quickly, "I'm to prepare for the arrival of more of the arl's men. Good day, Teyrness Yvaine."

"And to you, Ser Gilmore," said Yvaine, smiling as the knight left the kitchen, then she turned back to Nan, who was positively fuming.

"He's licking his chops, he is!" snapped Nan, "I bet that mongrel helped himself to that beautiful roast I had prepared!"

"Actually, Nan, he was hunting down Korcari Wild rats that invaded the larder," said Yvaine proudly, petting Gawain.

"I bet he showed them how to get in there," muttered Nan and Gawain whined to her, "Don't you start with me and those sad eyes! I'm immune to your so-called charms."

Gawain whined louder, wagging his tail at her.

Nan sighed and reached for a few cubes of cooked pork from the plate beside her, "Here, take these pork bits and don't say Nan never gave you nothing. Damn dog." Though she was trying to sound harsh, Yvaine knew she cared and this was just her way of showing her concern. Gawain barked happily as he scarfed down the cooked meat.

"Thank you again, my lady," said Nan, looking at Yvaine with kind eyes, "Now we can get back to work at last. That's right, you two, quit standing about! We have a castle of soldiers to feed and not much time to do it."

"Miserable old bat," mumbled the male elf servant.

"Old bat, am I?" snapped Nan, "We've got to work double-time on supper! Sweep out the hearths and no complaining, from either of you!"

"Same old Nan," whispered Yvaine quietly as she left, not wanting to bother Nan further though she had enjoyed hearing that nothing had really changed since she had been moved from being a nanny to head of the kitchen.

* * *

Gawain kept up with her as she walked around, eager to see her brother and nephew, the pair arrived at the atrium where she saw her mother and a group of people standing in the sunlight.

"And my dear Bryce brought this back from Orlais last year," said Eleanor to Lady Landra, showing her a large ornate pendant, "The marquis who gave it to him was drunk, as I understand it, and mistook Bryce for the king!"

The group laughed that fake learned laugh everyone at court was taught from a young age, the one that Yvaine hated more than any other practice she had every learned.

"Ah, here is my lovely daughter now," said Eleanor, when she saw Yvaine approach, and Yvaine could tell by the look on her face she was disappointed in the attire she was arriving in, along with the blood splattered all over the metal and leather, but she said nothing about it instead she spoke about the dog, "I take it by the presence of that lumbering troublesome hound that the mess in the kitchens was taken care of?"

"Yes, Mother," replied Yvaine trying to keep the exasperation out of her tone, "Nan is back to work, no one's quitting the staff today, except maybe the elves."

"Lets hope not, Nan can't function without someone to boss around," remarked Eleanor, giving her daughter a small smile, "At any rate, darling, you remember Lady Landra? Bann Loren's wife?"

"I think we last met at your mother's spring salon," said Lady Landra stiffly.

"Yes, I remember," said Yvaine, "it's good to see you again, my lady."

"And it is a pleasure to see you again as well, dear girl," said Lady Landra, "You remember my son, Dairren? He's not married yet, either."

Yvaine managed not to groan, it was bothersome enough having Arl Howe try to match her up with his youngest son whom was away, now Lady Landra was trying to set her and Dairren up and he was standing right there next to her!

"Mother, that's unnecessary," begged Dairren, "I'm sure Lady Yvaine has more on her mind at the moment than whom to marry. Yvaine, you are looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

Yvaine smiled, etiquette was required here, "Thank you, Dairren, you are too kind." The young lord was quite handsome and charming but he was practically useless when in a fight, she had seen so herself when Ser Gilmore had bested him during a tournament handing him a humiliating defeat.

"I heard you were going to be left in charge of Castle Cousland and Highever until your father and brother return," said Lady Landra, "A great honor indeed."

"My father has given me a great deal of responsibility," replied Yvaine sternly, "I only hope to live up to the expectations he has set as teyrn."

"And I'm sure you will," said Lady Landra, "and before I forget, this is my lady-in-waiting, Iona. Do say something, dear."

"It is a pleasure, my lady," said Iona, speaking as clearly and concisely as any noblewoman in Ferelden, despite being an elf, "You are as pretty as your mother describes."

"And she says this after watching you whacking away at stuffed men in the courtyard, sweating like a mule," commented Eleanor sternly, eyeing her daughter, "and covered in the blood of Maker-knows-what."

"Which is why I didn't wear the dress you picked out, Mother," retorted Yvaine, "So the sweat and blood wouldn't ruin the Orlesian silk."

"If you say so," sighed Eleanor, though Yvaine could see the amusement dancing in her violet eyes.

"Your prowess with a blade is quite impressive," said Dairren, his tone droll, "I have never seen a woman handle a sword quite the way you do."

"Again, thank you, Dairren," said Yvaine through slightly gritted teeth.

"Like my daughter, I was quite the battle maiden myself," said Eleanor slightly arrogant, "But I believe it was the softer arts such as embroidery and music that landed me my husband."

"Mother," whispered Yvaine slightly embarrassed, "you know I find that tedious."

"Yet you still managed to find time to finish your sampler while sharpening that blade of yours," remarked Eleanor smugly, "I, at least taught you something useful, besides how to use a dagger when in close combat."

"Which I appreciate, Mother," said Yvaine, smiling happily at her mother.

"I think I shall rest now, my dear," said Lady Landra, yawning to emphasize the point, "Dairren, I will see you and Iona at supper." The lady walked away, taking the dainty little steps that most of the female courtiers used when walking in public, Yvaine preferred walking like the Maker had intended with long strides and a fast pace so she could arrive at her destination before the sunset.

"Perhaps Iona and I will retire to the study for now," replied Dairren and he signaled for the young elf to follow him, both leaving for the study. When they were gone, Yvaine watched her mother relax, her shoulders no longer rigid, and her beautiful face losing all of its tension.

"You should say your good byes to Fergus before he rides off," said Eleanor, looking at Yvaine, her eyes now full of sadness.

"I will, Mother," said Yvaine, nodding, "although I wish I was riding off with him."

Eleanor sighed heavily, "I know this is difficult for you, Vaine, but you know our duties to Highever and the family comes first. Someday you will understand why certain sacrifices must be made."

"I understand it perfectly, Mother," said Yvaine quietly, glancing down at her feet, "I just think I could make a difference in this battle."

"Another time, another battle perhaps," said Eleanor softly, cupping her daughter's cheek and lifting her face so their eyes met, she could see tears in her mother's eyes, "I love you, darling girl. You know that, don't you?"

"I love you too, Mother," said Yvaine, wanting to embrace her mother but resisting in order to spare her mother the disgust of blood all over her dress.

"Run along and find your brother," said Eleanor, wiping her eyes before the tears even fell, "I'll see you at dinner."

* * *

Yvaine descended the stairs that lead to her family's bedrooms, Gawain following closely at her heels, barking happily periodically as they walked up the stone steps, "You're such a happy mutt."

They made their way to Fergus' room and when she opened the door she was greeted by two slender arms wrapping tightly around her waist, she looked down and saw her nephew Oren hugging her.

"Hello to you too, Oren," laughed Yvaine as she pulled her nephew up and held him against her hip.

"Auntie, it's good to see you," said Oren resting his head against her shoulder, "Mama and Papa are saying good bye and it makes me sad, make them stop, please."

"I'm sorry, Oren, that I cannot do for you," said Yvaine, looking at her older brother, a sad look drawn on his handsome features, his wife Oriana was fighting back tears.

"I'll be back before you even have time to miss me, Oren," said Fergus happily, "and I'll bring you back a sword of your very own!"

"A sword!" exclaimed Oren a huge smile on his tiny face, "Bring me back a big one, Papa, the largest one you can find!"

"I will do my best," said Fergus and he looked at his little sister, "Well Y-paine, are you here to see me off?"

"Of course, Fur-guts," said Yvaine, placing Oren back down on the floor, chuckling at the nicknames they still used from childhood, "and I have been asked to deliver a message, Father wants you to ride ahead with the troops to Ostagar without him."

"Damn!" snapped Fergus, "So the arl's men are delayed, you'd think they were walking backwards in quicksand. At any rate, I should be off, so many darkspawn to butcher, so little time!"

"I hope you aren't thinking of leaving without saying good-bye to your own parents, Fergus," said Eleanor as she and Bryce entered the bedroom.

"Of course not, Mother," said Fergus, embracing their mother, "I was just going to do it on my way out."

"Even though you are in a hurry, I still wish to give you my blessing," sighed Eleanor, "Be well, my son. I will pray for your safety everyday you are gone."

"Thank you, Mother," said Fergus softly, tears shimmering in his eyes, the same shade of violet as hers.

"Now, Fergus, it is time for you to ride off with the men," said Bryce clearing his throat, "And for you, Yvaine, I would think an early sleep is in order. After all, you have a great deal to do tomorrow and you're going to need your rest."

"Of course, Father," said Yvaine, quickly hugging her brother, putting the moment in her memory forever, "Good luck, Fergus, may your blade be swift and true."

"And may your shield never break," finished Fergus, "How I will miss you, dear sister."

"And I you, dear brother," said Yvaine, and she left the room with her parents before retiring to her room.

* * *

Yvaine laid in bed, her heart aching from the thought of her father and brother riding off into battle, and what was awaiting them there in Ostagar. Gawain had settled himself by the door, as he always did whenever she was in her room, it was her first line of defense she always reasoned. She glanced over at her armor, freshly polished after a couple of hours of sweat and oil, she desperately wanted to wear it into a proper battle instead of the small skirmishes she had fought over the last few years against bandits and rogues.

_'Hopefully, becoming a Grey Warden will mean more impressive battles,'_ thought Yvaine as she drifted off into a troubled sleep, thinking about darkspawn and the Grey Wardens.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Howe's Betrayal**

"Maker, I should really get Gawain a muzzle," groaned Yvaine as she buried her head underneath her pillow, trying to ignore Gawain's persistent barks, but when they did not subside she pulled herself out of her warm bed and looked over to see Gawain standing at the door with his teeth bared and hair raised, a growl permeating deep within his chest. She knew he only took that stance whenever he heard a sound that was unfamiliar to the castle, something was definitely very wrong if Gawain was growling like he was now.

"Gawain, hush," whispered Yvaine as she stood up, reaching for her armor, "They'll hear you, and we don't want that, do we? Time to retreat."

Gawain stopped barking and looked at her when she said the command, whined slightly before going over and retrieving her pack from beside her writing desk, he dropped it at her feet just as she finished buckling her belt, "Thank you, Gawain, you're such a good dog." He whined happily and paced nervously around the room as she put her sword and shield on her back, not sure if she would really need her weapons but it was just in case. She grabbed her pack off of the floor and hurriedly put in some extra supplies that she stored in her nightstand for situations like this one. Just as she finished packing she heard movement and screams across the hall and she grabbed Gawain and pulled him to the corner furthest away from the door, silently commanding him to remain still which he obliged.

"That sweet little teyrness should be asleep right about now, eh?" she heard a male voice say just outside her door, "What do you say we, you know, tap the midnight still as the dwarves say?"

"Good idea," sniggered another voice, this one deeper than the first and Yvaine felt herself stiffen, she knew what was about to come yet she was still nervous. She heard the sounds of boots coming closer to the door, then the door opened slowly, Gawain started to growl but Yvaine again nonverbally commanded him to be silent.

"You want to go first?" asked the deep voice as it entered the room.

"Yeah, then I can say I deflowered the bitch, then let you have a go," hissed the nasally voice, and Yvaine felt her breath catch in her throat.

"Wait, where is she?" asked the deep voice, and Yvaine motioned for Gawain to attack and he did with great enthusiasm, lunging for the deep voiced man, clamping down on his throat. Yvaine charged with her sword bared, and before the nasally voiced man could react she plunged her sword deep into his chest and looked him in the eye, making sure the hate in her's were the last thing he saw before she twisted the blade which sliced his heart killing him instantly. Yvaine pulled her sword out of the man, spitting on his body before she pulled her cleaning cloth from her belt, wiping off her blade before replacing it in its leather home patting Gawain on the head afterwards. She heard more footsteps running towards her and she reached for the dagger that was holstered on her leg, she spun around ready to plunge it into the person when she saw it was her mother.

"Yvaine!" exclaimed Eleanor, Yvaine let out a heavy sigh of relief, "I'm so glad to see you unharmed." She looked down at the two men dead on Yvaine's floor, blood pooling around the lifeless bodies, then she looked at Gawain with his blood soaked muzzle and she knew immediately the dog had saved her daughter's life, "I guess I was wrong to think of sending you away."

Gawain barked happily, wagging his stump of a tail at the teyrna, Eleanor smiled down at him before turning back to her daughter.

"I heard screaming and came as quickly as I could," said Eleanor calmly, answering Yvaine's puzzled look, "Not quickly enough, it would appear."

"It's alright, Mother," said Yvaine, putting her dagger back in its home, "You're here and safe, that's all that matters."

"Do you know who these men are?" asked Eleanor sharply. Yvaine shook her head as her mother took a torch down from the wall and examined the bodies, dropping the torch in surprise.

"What is it, Mother?" asked Yvaine, not having looked to keep an eye out for any more men following behind.

"These are Howe's men!" growled Eleanor, "I recognize the markings on their shields, I guess this is what happened to his supposedly "late" troops!"

Yvaine suddenly remembered Oriana and Oren, alone in the room across from hers, "Mother, we need to check on Oriana! I think I heard screams from her room!"

Eleanor pushed Yvaine aside, her thoughts focused only on making sure her young grandson was alright, Yvaine chased after her not wanting to think of what was probably waiting for them on the other side of the door. She managed to get ahead of her mother and stood between her and the door, determined to prepare her mother for the worst before it was too late.

"Move aside, girl," said Eleanor roughly, "Let me in there!"

"Mother, what you might see in there will not be pleasant—" started Yvaine before her mother cut in.

"Do not lecture me!" snapped Eleanor, then when she saw the hurt in her daughter's face she continued, "Vaine, please, I know what might be in there. Just be there for me."

"I will be," said Yvaine calmly, she took a deep breath and opened the door quickly, her heartbreaking when she saw Oren's tiny little body thrown into a corner. She walked over to him as if in a daze, not seeing Oriana's naked body laying haphazardly on the torn up canopy bed, and she knelt beside Oren's body and pulled him into her lap. It was all she could do to not cry as she cradled the boy's body, remembering how he had felt in her arms earlier that day, now she wished she had not picked up his body his cold skin and limp appendages ruining her memories.

"Oh, my poor little Oren," Eleanor sobbed, she could not bring herself to touch him, the heartbreak was far too much for her to handle right now.

Yvaine stood up with Oren in her arms and she walked over to the bed, her steps slow and her heart heavy as she placed him beside his mother whom was now wrapped snuggly in her dressing gown.

"I couldn't leave her like that," said Eleanor from behind Yvaine, she moved to the end of the bed and stared at the bodies of her daughter-in-law and grandson, "I felt I had to give her some dignity, I hope you can forgive me for what I said—"

"Mother, I already have," whispered Yvaine as she smoothed Oren's red hair and pulled the blanket over his body, "Where's Father?"

Eleanor blinked a few times, still trying to process everything that was happening, "I. . .I don't know! He never came to bed! Oh Maker, we need to find him!"

Yvaine nodded and pulled her sword and shield out, ready to protect her mother until she saw her mother was in her old battle armor, but the sword and shield she had Yvaine recognized as her family's heirlooms. The three of them walked out of the room carefully, Gawain serving as a scout for them, neither one of the women sure what was around the next corner both hoping in their hearts that Bryce was somewhere safe and uninjured. They made it down to the atrium when they heard steel blades clashing against each other near the kitchen, Yvaine looked around the corner and saw some of the Highever soldiers fighting a few of Howe's men, it was four on seven and Yvaine charged forward not even thinking about her own safety.

"Die, you bastards, die!" she screamed as she ran a guard through with her blade, surprising both sets of troops for a brief moment before the fighting continued. Yvaine pulled her sword out of the soldier just in time to block a rogue's dagger from piercing her neck, she used her shield to knock it clean out of the his hands before slicing her sword across his exposed throat. She felt something against her back and she looked up to see Ser Gilmore guarding her from the rear, she smiled to herself as she brought her shield over her head then she plunged her blade into the weak point of the soldier's armor, bringing him to his knees. It did not take long for the rest of Howe's troops to fall, the Highever troops' morale having increased when they saw their teyrness fighting by their side. When the last one had fallen to the floor, Yvaine looked around at the damage, amazed that the worst damage done to one of her men was a deep gash in the cheek of one of the knights.

"Here, let me help you," said Yvaine soothingly as she pulled out a health poultice, and massaged the salve into the wound of the knight, who blushed when she tenderly touched his cheek.

"You're truly one of a kind, my lady," stammered the knight as she finished rubbing the poultice in the wound, Yvaine smiled as she closed the lid on the jar and put it back in her pack.

"She really is," said Ser Gilmore and Yvaine threw herself into his arms, glad to see that her dear friend was still alive and in one piece.

"Gil!" said Yvaine into his shoulder, "I'm so glad you're alright, I thought for sure—"

"What? You really thought Howe's men had bested me?" laughed Ser Gilmore, he stopped when he saw the look in her eyes, he decided now was the time to tell her the bad news, before it all went to hell again, "Vaine, you have to get out of here, as soon as possible. There are men at the gates, if they get through . . ." He could not complete the rest of his sentence, the thought of her being killed in cold blood by these disgusting men was too much for him to think about.

"I know, Gil," replied Yvaine quietly, "We have to find my father, do you know where he is, by chance?"

Ser Gilmore nodded his head slowly, "Yes, he's in the kitchen larder, or he was when Duncan ran off towards the northern part of the castle. I think he was injured, Duncan was practically carrying in there before he ran off."

"Oh Maker," moaned Eleanor and Yvaine's blood boiled in anger, this was too much, Arl Howe was going to pay for this betrayal.

"Please, Gil, come with us," implored Yvaine, and Ser Gilmore smiled at her weakly.

"Of course, Vaine," said Ser Gilmore and he released her, "Follow me, Teyrna, Vaine. I'll get you both to the Teyrn safely."

Yvaine felt a great deal of comfort as she followed Ser Gilmore to the kitchen larder, they did not run into anymore of the arl's troops though they could hear fighting off in the distance closer to the main gate. When they entered the kitchen, Yvaine breathed a sigh of relief, she did not see Nan's body in here and she hoped that the woman had found a way out of the castle and was scolding the soldiers for intruding. She almost laughed at the thought until she remembered the situation she and her family was in, and that it was unlikely that Nan had ever made it out of the castle.

"Here," said Ser Gilmore, opening the door to the larder, Yvaine rushed in with her mother at her heels both women stood in horror when they saw Bryce. The poor teyrn was lying in a pool of his own blood, Yvaine knew it was too late for her father, but she still wanted to save him despite her better judgement. She rushed to her father's side and knelt beside him, wiping the blood away from his face, her hands trembling the entire time.

"Oh pup, you're alright," said Bryce weakly, "I thought Howe's men had gotten you."

"They didn't know who they were messing with," said Yvaine smiling sadly at her father, wanting to keep the mood light but finding it almost impossible, "What happened to you, Father?"

"I was. . .in a meeting with Howe. . ." wheezed Bryce, "When he got word. . . .about his men. . .he stuck a dagger in me . . .left me to die . . ."

"Maker's breath, Bryce," said Eleanor, kneeling at her husband's head, placing it tenderly in his lap, "How did you manage to get here?"

"Duncan . . . found me," said Bryce, his voice getting weaker, "Dragged me here. . . went off to find you . . ."

"Which I now see was unnecessary," said Duncan as he entered, blood dripping from his armor, "The teyrness is quite the fighter, I saw her defending your own soldiers, not giving a second thought for her own safety."

Bryce laughed, though it pained him to do so, "That's my brave little girl. Pup, you must. . .go with Duncan. . . take your mother. . .and go with him to Ostagar. . . warn Fergus . . ."

"I will, Father," said Yvaine, gulping down a sob that threatened to escape her lips, "You have my word, Arl Howe will pay for this." She closed her eyes as tight as she could to stop the tears but they fell despite her best effort.

"I . . .know you will. . .make me proud," said Bryce smiling before looking up at his wife, "Darling. . . you must go now . . ."

"No," said Eleanor firmly, not looking at Yvaine as she spoke, "Bryce, I swore to always be by your side, and I'm not about to break that vow."

"Mother, please. . ." started Yvaine but her voice wavered as she looked at her mother's eyes, burning them into her memory forever.

"Vaine, it's up to you now," said Eleanor soothingly, she reached behind her and pulled off her large pack, "Here, take this, there are some things in there you might find useful in your journey."

Yvaine took the heavy bag, not daring to look in it yet, and slung it over her shoulder.

"Give me your blade and shield, Vaine," said Eleanor, Yvaine hesitated, "Vaine, give it to me now, do not disobey me." Yvaine pulled her sword and shield from her back and handed them to her mother only to have the legendary Cousland blade and shield into her arms, this was too much for her, she knew this was the end.

"Go, darling," said Eleanor encouragingly when she saw the look on her daughter's face, "Become a Grey Warden, live your life how you've always wanted to, you'll make a name for yourself that much is sure."

"I'll stay behind and protect them, Vaine," said Ser Gilmore bravely, "I'll do what I can to keep them safe for as long as I'm able."

Yvaine stood and embraced her best friend, kissing him softly on the lips to show her appreciation for his sacrifice, "Thank you, Gil, you have no idea what that means to me."

They heard a loud cracking sound and they knew the rest of the guards had made it into the castle, Duncan turned to the group, "Yvaine, if we're going to leave, we need to go now."

"You can use the servant's entrance, it leads to a tunnel that will get you past the castle," said Eleanor, indicating with her head the location of the small door, "Just get my daughter out of here, Duncan."

Yvaine wanted to object to this plan, drag her mother and father out of here, and all run away to Ostagar but she knew it could not happen the arl had certainly seen to that, instead she knelt back down and kissed her father's cheek and then her mother's, "I love both of you, with all of my heart and soul."

"And we love you, pup," sighed Bryce, his breathing now very labored, "Tell Fergus we love him too, now go!"

Duncan put his arm on her shoulder and she rose, not daring to look back at her parents and she followed Duncan and Gawain to the servant's entrance, this was the hardest thing she had ever had to do in her entire life.

"Vaine," called Ser Gilmore as she was about to leave, "May your blade be swift and true."

"And may your shield never break," replied Yvaine softly and she gave him a fleeting smile before closing the door behind her.

* * *

Duncan, Yvaine, and Gawain walked down the dark hallway water dripping down from the ceiling, a few drops hitting Yvaine every now and then though her head was hung down low.

"I know you're upset, Yvaine," said Duncan, his voice echoing, "but this is for the best, someday you'll see that."

"I hope so," said Yvaine in a low voice, "because right now, I feel like the worst daughter in all of Ferelden."

"I promise you this, Yvaine, Arl Howe will pay for his treachery," said Duncan in a low growl which surprised Yvaine a great deal, she had not expected this reasonable man to want vengeance as much as she did. They remained quiet the rest of the walk, Yvaine listening to the water as it fell into the puddles on the soft earth, she thought about what might be awaiting them once they arrived in Ostagar. Soon they were out of the tunnel, the moon the only light they had as Duncan brought her to where two horses were tied to a nearby tree, one a dark Arabian the other a light tan Palomino, Duncan handed her the reigns to the Arabian.

"You ride, I assume," said Duncan as he mounted his horse.

Yvaine hoisted herself onto the back of the Arabian, "Are darkspawn ugly?"

Duncan laughed as he began to walk his horse, Yvaine following beside him, Gawain running ahead of the horses as happy as he could be.

"How long until we reach Ostagar?" asked Yvaine, looking around at the shadows the trees made on the ground in front of her horse, amazed at how quiet it was.

"Two to three days, depending on the weather," said Duncan glancing at her as they rode along, avoiding the main roads for fear of being spotted by any lingering troops the arl might have stationed incase someone managed to make it out of the castle. He was amazed at her resilience, she had just been forced to abandon her family and off venture to war where she might lose her life, and she had not batted an eyelash. _'She really is Eleanor's daughter, a true battle maiden through and through,'_ thought Duncan as he watched her, she had proved herself a warrior tonight, and he knew she would not fall in battle easily if she were to fall at all.

* * *

"Are there many Grey Wardens?" asked Yvaine as Duncan handed her a chunk of bread and an apple from across their horses, after they left Highever, they had agreed to only stop at night for a few hours rest in order to make it to Ostagar in time.

"Currently there are about a dozen in Ferelden, including myself," replied Duncan before he washed his food down with water, when he finished he continued, "Orlais holds more, they are due to arrive in Ferelden sometime soon, or so King Cailan has told me."

"How old do you have to be to become a Grey Warden?" asked Yvaine, trying to keep the conversation going, she feared if she did not talk she would lose herself to her grief and never come out of it.

"There is no age limit," said Duncan, thinking about his youngest recruit, Alistair, "but there are no children in the Grey Wardens if that's what you mean."

Yvaine smiled, "If you allowed that, I might have joined when I was eleven instead of twenty-two."

Duncan laughed, "You were probably just as good a soldier at eleven as you are now. Actually, we currently have a young recruit, well young by Grey Warden standards. His name's Alistair, he's been a Warden for about six or seven months now, I think you'll like him you and he share a love of dry wit."

"Though I'm sure I'm better at it," said Yvaine grinning.

"You are indeed, Lady Yvaine," said Duncan, glancing over at her, glad to see her smiling for the first time in the last couple of days. Soon they came to a road post with several different cities and how many miles between here and there, Yvaine looked and saw Ostagar was about a half day's ride from this point on, she was glad that this leg of her journey was about to be over, so the next part could begin and she could move past her family's tragedy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: Ostagar**

"See there, dear girl," said Duncan pointing to a high tower on the horizon, "that is Tower Ishal of Ostagar, if my calculations are correct we should be arriving there shortly."

Yvaine breathed a sigh of relief, this had been the hardest journey she had ever been on, she had spent a majority of the trip dwelling on thoughts of her parents and Ser Gilmore occasionally wondering about Fergus, "I'm glad this will be over soon, not that I haven't enjoyed your company, Duncan."

Duncan smiled at the young girl, a pang of guilt stabbing his heart as he looked at her youthful appearance, he knew what they were embarking on would not be easy and she had already lost more than most girls her age lost in an entire lifetime and now he was bringing her to face another trial. It was hard for him not to answer all of her questions, she had asked a great deal on the first day of the journey, but with him answering fewer and fewer she had stopped asking. He knew she was curious, her mind would not be at ease until she had been told every variable, much like her father, but tradition and promises made long ago forbade him from uttering even a single syllable about any secret the Wardens held. _'Maybe I'm asking too much of her too soon,'_ thought Duncan, _'She has been through a great ordeal, maybe I should delay our arrival by a few more days until she is in a better state of mind.'_

"Duncan," said Yvaine, pulling him from his thoughts, "Can you tell me more about Alistair?"

Duncan sighed, he wanted to tell her about his newest recruit but he thought it was better she learned about him on her own, "I've told you all I really know, if you want to learn more, you'll have to speak with him yourself after we arrive at Ostagar."

"Which is hopefully soon," mumbled Yvaine, her back and legs aching from riding for hours on end, Gawain had taken to walking beside her horse rather than running ahead he seemed to have sensed her distress and wanted to be closer to her.

"Don't worry, Yvaine," said Duncan kindly, "all of your questions will be answered after the Joining ritual, can you wait until then?"

Yvaine could not help but smile, the more she was around him the more she felt as if he had always been around for her entire life, "Yes, Duncan, I think my curiosity can wait to be sated until tonight."

"Good to hear," said Duncan, leaning across the gap between their horses and patted her shoulder, "You are very much like your father, he always wanted the answers at the start, but he was willingly to compromise when it was necessary."

Yvaine fought back the tears that stung her eyes, she thought she would be able to hear about her father after these last few days but she was wrong, in fact it was harder than she realized it would be. They rode in silence for a another hour, neither knowing what to say to the other to ease the tension that seemed to be brewing between them, it was Duncan who decided it was he who should end the quiet.

Duncan cleared his throat, "I'm sorry to have brought him up, I apologize for my tactlessness, please accept my humblest of apologies."

"You speak like a nobleman," smirked Yvaine, "and I accept your apology, Duncan, though it is entirely unnecessary."

"Your compliment is very displaced, Yvaine," replied Duncan softly, "I may speak like a nobleman, but before I was a Grey Warden I was a thief, and a murderer." He said the last few words so quietly, Yvaine almost missed hearing them.

"Whom did you murder?" asked Yvaine, hoping he was willing to speak about his past more than he seemed to about the Grey Wardens.

"Another Grey Warden," said Duncan, looking off into the distance, "When I lived in Orlais, I was desperate for a few coins to buy bread, when I saw him walk into the inn I followed him and waited until he was asleep. When he did, I crept into his room and searched as quietly as I could for anything I could sell, I saw a ring sitting on the nightstand and reached for it but he was awake by then and grabbed my wrist. We fought like two starving cats over a piece of fish, at one point I gained the upper hand, holding a knife to his throat telling him to give me the ring and I would spare his life. He refused my offer so we continued our struggle, at some point my dagger managed to pierce his lung, as he laid there dying he looked me straight in the eyes and thanked me for ending his life."

"That must have been awful," said Yvaine, glancing over at him, now seeing past the persona and seeing the actual person beneath the armor.

"It was," said Duncan thoughtfully, "I was arrested shortly after that, and told that the man I had unintentionally murdered was a Grey Warden. The night before I was to be executed, Commander Genevieve arrived and asked me to be a member of the Grey Wardens, I refused her initial offer, remembering how the Warden I had killed had thanked me for doing so. To me the life they led must have been worse than anything I had ever known."

"That sounds fairly well reasoned," said Yvaine slowly, thinking about what she would have said if she had been in the same situation, "How did you become a Grey Warden then, if you refused the Commander's offer?"

"I was getting to that, be patient, Yvaine," said Duncan, laughing at the scowl on her face before continuing his story, "The next day, I was walked to my execution, a huge crowd had amassed to watch the killer of a Grey Warden get his dues when suddenly Commander Genevieve burst forward and said 'I invoke the Right of Conscription, this young man is to come with me and become a Grey Warden.' No one was more surprised than I was when she announced her intentions and I was forced to follow her out of the prison yard and to Weisshaupt where I underwent the Joining and continued to rise within the Grey Wardens."

Yvaine was quiet after Duncan had finished his story, this great man had murdered in cold blood and then repaid his debt by fighting alongside the Grey Wardens, she was not sure what to think of him now or why he had told her his story in the first place when he could have so easily dodged it like all of the others. She had heard that anyone could become a Grey Warden, even the worst of mankind, but she had never heard of the killer of another Warden joining their ranks, let alone becoming the leader. It struck her as odd that the Grey Wardens were as compassionate to murderers of their own people as they were to the lowliest slave, she knew they needed people to join their order but she did not realize they had been that desperate.

"Duncan," said Yvaine a while later as she tossed a half eaten apple to Gawain, "Why did you tell me that story?"

"To show you that even the best of the Wardens did not come from the most sparkling of backgrounds," said Duncan, smiling kindly at her, "You're story is not as bad as some of the others nor is it the best, it is simply you and that is all the Wardens care about in a recruit."

Yvaine felt herself smiling, she was glad to know that her family's tragedy nor her background would influence whether or not she would be able to become a full-fledged Grey Warden, something she had been worrying about since they had first started the journey. They continued their ride, commenting occasionally about the various fauna and flora, Duncan telling her which roots and mushrooms were edible and which ones were better for making medicine or poisons. When the pillars and moss covered walls of Ostagar came into view, Yvaine practically stood up on her saddle to get a better view, eliciting a chuckle from Duncan who thought now was the time to prepare her for what to expect when she arrived in the fortress itself.

"Yvaine," said Duncan as she sat back down on her horse, "there are a few things to keep in mind while wandering around camp: first most will not know about what happened in Highever so do not take offense or lash out if someone asks why your father has not arrived, second both King Cailan and Teyrn Loghain are here, please try not to disturb them too much, they have a great deal to plan for the upcoming battle."

Yvaine rolled her eyes, "Duncan, I appreciate the instructions but I know how to handle myself around nobility, I am skilled in the practiced and appreciated art of shutting my mouth."

Duncan laughed, "I wish Alistair had learned that art. Speaking of Alistair, during your wanderings, you should also try and find him he will be accompanying you while you prepare for the Joining. I would suggest asking the guards but it'd be easier to just look for a line of irritated faces, that's usually a good sign they have spoken to Alistair, the one at the end has spoken to Alistair the most recent."

"Is he that horrible?" laughed Yvaine, thinking to herself that she and this Alistair would definitely get along.

"Not usually, but he is if he's riled up expect fur to fly," said Duncan, shaking his head as he thought of Alistair.

* * *

They arrived at the gates of Ostagar shortly after, a pair of guards waiting to greet them, Yvaine had hoped their arrival would go almost undetected so she could avoid as many people as possible when she heard several people walk up behind her as she dismounted from her horse. When she turned around she was stunned to see King Cailan standing before them in gleaming golden armor, a smirk graced his handsome features, his light blonde hair tied back against the wind, as he approached closer Yvaine could see in his grey eyes he was happy to see Duncan. She had often heard the courtiers speak in hushed voices that the King was a fool, and a mere puppet being controlled by Loghain, though right now Yvaine could not picture a more inspiring king he looked the part and even when he spoke he commanded the same respect as any noteworthy king of the old days would have.

"Ah, Duncan, glad to see you made it back in time," said Cailan, shaking hands with the Warden, then he turned his attention to Yvaine, "This is the newest recruit I take it?" He scanned Yvaine up and down, amazed that she was as tall as she was, the last time he remembered seeing her she was a few inches shorter and still a blossoming woman.

"Yes, your Majesty," said Duncan quickly turning to Yvaine, "This is—"

"Teyrness Yvaine Cousland," cut in Cailan, his eyes wide with amazement, "I'm surprised your father let you accompany Duncan, I was told you would be taking care of the affairs in Highever while he and Fergus were here."

"You have met Yvaine before, your Majesty?" asked Duncan, looking from Yvaine to Cailan.

"Many years ago, in fact," replied Cailan, "We met at a feast her father held in my honor during my wedding campaign with Anora, you participated in the tournament and won the entire event, as I recall."

"I'm honored you even remembered me, your Majesty," said Yvaine shyly, "and as for my father, he and the rest of my family were . . . uh . . ." She could not bring herself to complete the sentence, it would make the situation even more real than it already was.

"My lady," said Cailan kindly, approaching Yvaine as if he were her brother instead of her king, "do not be afraid to speak of your father to me, I will accept the news with grace and dignity befitting my station, or so Loghain has instructed me to do so."

"Your Majesty," said Duncan quickly, "maybe this could wait for another time, the teyrness has just arrived after a long journey and she is probably in need of proper nourishment and—"

"It's alright, Duncan," said Yvaine a small frown creasing her brow, she knew she would have to tell Cailan the fate of her family and it was best to do it sooner rather than later, "Your Majesty, my family was . . .was. . . murdered."

"Murdered?!" exclaimed Cailan, clearly outraged, "By who, sweet lady?"

"Arl Howe," spat Yvaine, the very name bitter as wormwood on her tongue.

"Arl Howe?!" repeated Cailan, his own anger and sorrow flaring up, "That bastard, my lady, I can assure you that as soon as this darkspawn threat has been dealt with I will personally lead the troops to Highever and reclaim your family's home for you."

Yvaine was stunned, after her talk with Duncan she had abandoned hope that Cailan would do anything to assist her in reaping vengeance on the treacherous arl, "Thank you, your Majesty, this is more than I had ever expected."

"Your father was a good friend," said Cailan crestfallen, "For him to have died in the manner he did, is not only the ultimate betrayal, but also an insult to the very life he led. I will make sure your lands are returned to your family, Yvaine, that you can be sure of."

"Your Majesty," said Yvaine carefully, "I was wondering, has my brother Fergus arrived yet? I was hoping to find him and tell him about . . ."

"No need to continue, dear lady," said Cailan, putting his hand on her shoulder, "Your brother did arrive, currently he is on a scouting expedition in the Korcari Wilds though I do not expect him to return for a few hours. When he does, I will make sure he is informed of your arrival, until then I suggest you make yourself more comfortable in camp."

Yvaine wanted to leap into the air for joy, this was the best news she had heard in days, without thinking she embraced the king ignoring the gasps from the guards around them, "Thank you for this, your Majesty, you have no idea how this news has brightened my previously dark and troubled mind."

Cailan was surprised and rather pleased that he had given her the desire to break protocol, and he embraced her in return, "I am glad to have brought you this news, dear lady. You are a shining example to us all, despite what has befallen you and your family, you have honored Ferelden by traveling from your home and agreeing to join the legendary Grey Wardens, I hope the rest of the people in this land can learn from you."

She was released from the crushing embrace of the king and smiled up at him, glad to know that despite all she had heard, he was everything to the contrary, "You do me and my family a great service with your words and promises, your Majesty."

"As you do me the service of assisting me in this battle," said Cailan, flashing her a toothy grin, "Now, while I would rather remain here and continue to speak with both Wardens, Loghain has requested my presence once my business with you has concluded. I see you are in good hands, Yvaine, so I trust you no longer need to speak with me. Duncan, I will be expecting you tonight before the battle, there is a great deal to discuss and I'm sure Loghain would love to boss you around too."

Duncan frowned, "You should not speak of the teyrn in such a way, your Majesty, it has been his strategies that have won the battles so far and as king you must consider his expertise and opinion."

"I know," groaned Cailan, "I would look forward to discussing them more if he did not constantly say, 'You may not fight with the Wardens, Cailan.' He is anything if not persistent to make his point."

"Well, your Majesty," chuckled Duncan, "if you would stop maneuvering yourself to the front lines with us during these strategy meetings, the teyrn might stop reminding you."

"You have a point there, Duncan," sighed Cailan, "either way, I am afraid I must be off, I hope to see you both later tonight. Yvaine, I am glad you have made it here safely, and good luck tonight with the Joining."

Yvaine and Duncan bowed to him as he departed from the clearing, and they themselves started walking towards the camp that had been set up where the stronghold's former courtyard had been. Gawain was happily running ahead, barking at the birds and licking some of the soldiers, Yvaine smiled, she was glad at least someone was enjoying themselves.

"Your hound is friendly even for mabari standards," chuckled Duncan and Yvaine nodded in agreement, "Your familiarity with the king is most. . .interesting."

"I've never been one for standing on ceremony," replied Yvaine, "I would have hugged you as well when we first met had it not been for the arl and my father being present."

Duncan smiled, "I am flattered to know you are comfortable enough with me to exhibit such a familiar display."

"I hugged the king to fully show my gratitude for the news about my brother," continued Yvaine, petting Gawain as he trotted back to her, "A simple 'Thank you, your Majesty' did not seem to cover how I was feeling during that moment."

"After all you have been through, I could not imagine any better news for you," said Duncan and they arrived at what looked like the Grey Warden's tent as there was a flag flying above the tent with the griffon insignia of the Wardens emblazoned on the blue field.

"I must leave you now, Yvaine," said Duncan, "I have some business to discuss with a few of the other Wardens before the next battle, I will take your hound with me, there are some preparations for him to be made as well before he also encounters any darkspawn. Please, feel free to explore the camp, just make sure to find Alistair before the sunsets."

"I will, Duncan, thank you," said Yvaine and she quickly embraced the Warden, wanting to show how grateful she was for all he had done for her over the last few days.

Duncan returned her gesture and felt a rush of guilt, while he knew what must be done he did not want it to happen to this young girl, "I'll see you soon, Yvaine, please excuse me."

Yvaine released him, slightly puzzled at his behavior though she chose not linger on it too long, instead she focused on all that was around her amazed that King Cailan had been able to join together so many opposing forces. She looked to her left and saw the Templars and the mages being blessed by some members of the Chantry, she saw a few Dalish elves speaking with human merchants as if they were already on friendly terms, there was even a small band of dwarves wandering around the same as she was though they were less steady on their feet. Yvaine felt as if every sensation had been ignited at once, every where she looked there was something new to hear, smell, see, even taste as she sampled something the dwarves had cooked up. The meal was what she was used to but it felt good to have something warm in her stomach after having eaten nothing but bread and apples for three days straight, and even the ale the dwarves had seemed better than what was usually found in most human taverns.

After her brief meal, Yvaine continued to wander around the camp, keeping an eye out for anyone she thought might be this mysterious Alistair she had heard so much about so far she had yet to see the long line of irritated people that Duncan had said would lead directly back to Alistair. She did start to hear raised voices and she chuckled to herself, from what she could hear above the clamor of the camp the argument sounded rather ridiculous, so she decided to investigate. She walked over to a small grove of trees where a band of rouge looking men were standing with their bows loaded and some had blades unsheathed all directed at the young man standing in front of them with his hands up in a type of protective surrender stance.

"Alright, I get the message," said the young man, "I still don't understand what the big deal is, all I asked is if you cuddle your mabari when you're sleeping."

"You insult us and our hounds with your foul words," sneered what appeared to be the leader, "I don't care if you are a Grey Warden, no one insults the Ash warriors and gets away with it!"

The Ash warriors lunged at the young man and Yvaine was about to join in to defend the other Warden but she quickly saw he was more than capable of handling this himself, he blocked several of the fired arrows with his shield and knocked down a few of the men with swords. It was not until he turned his back that Yvaine jumped in, she saw what he did not, the leader of the warriors was going to take advantage of the young man's vulnerability unsheathing her sword she dove between them, blocking the warrior's blade with her own. She took full advantage of his surprise and used the momentum of their locked blades to propel him backwards and he landed flat on his back.

"What the—?" started the young man, turning around fully only to see Yvaine standing over the knocked down Ash warrior, "Oh, wow, you did that?"

Yvaine put her sword back into its home, "You sound surprised that a woman is capable of taking down a warrior."

"I'm not. . .I mean . . .well it is unusual . . .and I'm going to shut my mouth now," said the young man when he saw Yvaine's face.

"You bitch!" shouted the fallen warrior as he stood up and dusted himself off, "How dare you humiliate me!"

"You had already humiliated yourself," said Yvaine coldly, spinning around to look at the man full in the face,"Only a coward would think to strike a man when his back is turned, even without me, you have managed to make a fool of yourself. Now collect what dignity you have and get away from here, and don't you ever try to harm another Warden so long as I draw breath."

Yvaine walked off, her head held high, the men she had left in the dust were staring at her with their mouths opened none of them had ever met another woman like her and they were hoping to never be on the other end of her blade. As she walked she heard running footsteps behind her, she turned around and saw the young man from before trying to catch up with her, she smiled to herself, she had a feeling this was Alistair.

"You . . . walk . . .really fast," wheezed the young man as he stopped to catch his breath, hands resting on his knees.

"No faster than you, I'm sure," replied Yvaine amused at this man, he was nothing like she had expected, from what Duncan had said she thought he would be more of a teenager rather than an adult though he was young, and even from the briefest glimpse she saw he was rather handsome in a devil-may-care, rugged way.

"You had a head start," protested the young man, and he stood back up.

"Shouldn't have made a difference," teased Yvaine, leaning against the tree behind her, fully examining the fine specimen in front of her.

"Oh, to the Maker with technicalities," smirked the young man, she could see his soft brown eyes roaming her form.

"Am I to assume you're Alistair?" asked Yvaine, blushing slightly as she watched a small grin form on Alistair's lips.

"You are right in your assumption, dear lady," said Alistair, coming up beside her, leaning against the same tree, "and you're Duncan's latest recruit, am I correct?"

Yvaine smiled, "Indeed you are, Alistair."

Alistair started to wrack his mind, trying with all of his might to remember where this woman was from and what her name was but he kept getting sidetracked whenever he even glimpsed at her dazzling brown eyes, "Forgive me, my mind's drawing a blank on your name."

Yvaine laughed and Alistair knew he wanted to make her laugh again, just to see her face light up and hear the wonderful melody of her laughter.

"My name's Yvaine Cousland," said Yvaine, smiling at him, "I'm from Highever."

"That was the name, right, sorry," apologized Alistair, blushing all of the way up to his ears, "Anyway, I also wanted to tell you thanks for having my back, it's not many people who'll defend a person they've never met."

"You're welcome, Alistair," said Yvaine quite surprised, "though you seemed to have a handle on the situation before I got involved."

Alistair laughed, he knew she was trying to compliment him but he felt a little uncomfortable to receive such high praise, "You're too kind, Lady Cousland, far too kind."

Yvaine cocked her head towards Alistair, "How'd you know I was nobility?"

"The Cousland name is one of the oldest in all of Ferelden," replied Alistair, "I'd have never passed my history lessons if I hadn't learned at least that much."

Yvaine smirked, "Try being a Cousland and learning all of that stuff, there's a lot of added pressure."

"I can only imagine," said Alistair, watching the wisps of her wheat colored hair blowing in the breeze, hypnotized by the movements. They were silent for a few moments, then Alistair remembered the reason why Yvaine had probably been searching for him in the first place.

"Duncan sent you to find me, didn't he?" asked Alistair, and he saw her nod, it took all of his restraint not to sigh, "It'd probably be a bad idea to keep him waiting, I guess we should head on over back to the Grey Warden tent." He started walking off towards the tent hardly noticing Yvaine beside him, his mind filling with scenarios that all ended with a frothing mouth and blood spilling from beautiful brown eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four: Preparations**

"You've been awfully quiet, Alistair," said Yvaine as they passed by a large tent with yellow and red stripes, "That seems contrary to what Duncan told me about you."

"Duncan told you about me?" asked Alistair, taken aback yet still flattered that his mentor had spoken to this young woman about him.

"Yes, he said we'd get along since we share a love of dry humor," said Yvaine, smiling at Alistair as they walked in stride together.

"Did he now?" said Alistair, an arrogant smirk on his lips, and a sense of pride filling his body as he glanced over at Yvaine, admiring how the sun reflected off her hair, seeming to give her a halo.

"Yes," said Yvaine, noticing the smirk and the change in his walk, "he also said that you have yet to learn the lesson of when to keep your mouth shut."

Alistair's smirk quickly dropped to a frown as his brow creased, Yvaine laughed and he blushed, giving her a small smile in response.

"If I do cross a line, my lady, just inform me. The last thing I want to do is offend you," replied Alistair, inclining his head in a small bow as they continued walking up the hill.

"Don't worry, Alistair, I enjoy hearing someone speak their mind," said Yvaine, "and none of that 'my lady' stuff, I'm simply Yvaine now."

"Forgive me, that one might take some getting used to," said Alistair sheepishly, "I was raised to respect those of nobility and that certain familiarity is not approved of."

"Well, I've been a terrible noble then," laughed Yvaine, "I hugged the King." She kicked a white rock ahead of her, trying to keep it within kicking distance each time.

Alistair raised an eyebrow as he watched her play her little game, "You? You hugged the King? Must've been very difficult, what with all of the armor and the fact his head is bigger than his body."

Yvaine scowled, "You sound like Howe, he didn't approve much of the King either."

"Well, it's rather difficult to approve of the King when it is common knowledge the Queen has been ruling the entire time," scoffed Alistair.

"It's Cailan who's here fighting for Ferelden, not Anora," retorted Yvaine, adjusting her belt. They continued their walk in silence for a few more minutes when Yvaine stopped in her tracks, Alistair almost missing her completely.

"Are you alright?" asked Alistair as he stepped back to where she was now standing.

"Yes," said Yvaine quietly, "I just wanted to apologize for my brashness earlier."

"Your brashness?" said Alistair before realizing what she meant, "Oh! You mean that moment when you put me in my place about Cailan and Anora right? Forget about it, I was the one who was out of line."

"No, I was," argued Yvaine, "I told you to speak with me honestly which you did, and I jumped on you for it, that was extremely rude on my part."

"Shall we agree to disagree?" laughed Alistair, resting his hand on her shoulder, a gesture that surprised both of them, "Seeing as how we're both too polite for our own good, we might have to say that often."

Yvaine laughed, "You're probably right, Alistair. Shall we continue to the tent then?"

"Now that I can wholeheartedly agree with," said Alistair, moving his hand from her shoulder reluctantly, and they began walking again.

A short time later they arrived close to the center of camp, they could see the Grey Warden's flag just above the tent when Yvaine felt a stone hit her leg, she looked around wildly for the source and saw a man sitting in a cage.

Yvaine walked over to the man, an angry look on her face, "Did you throw that at me?"

"I might've," said the man smugly, not making direct eye contact with Yvaine.

"Either you did or you didn't, which is it?" asked Yvaine darkly.

"Fine I did," sighed the man, dropping all pretenses, "Look, I'm sorry for the stone to the leg, but I needed to get your attention somehow without alerting all of the guards."

"There are nicer ways of getting someone's attention," said Alistair as he approached the man's cage, "Maybe next time you could try bird calls, perhaps waving, but throwing stones is a very bad idea."

Yvaine looked closer at the man, he was not wearing any clothes save for a soiled tunic, his legs and face were burned from prolonged sun exposure, and from where she was standing she could see the bones protruding from underneath his burned skin. She felt pity towards this poor man, no matter what he might have done, he did not deserve this cruel treatment by any means.

"I apologize for disturbing you, I can see by the swords you carry you both must be on important business," said the man humbly, "be on your way then, I'll trouble you no more."

Alistair nodded, turning away from the man when he heard Yvaine ask, "What's your name?"

The man in the cage was surprised to say the very least by her civility, "Alexander, my lady, Alexander Voltarus."

"I'm Yvaine Cousland, a pleasure to meet you. Well, Alexander Voltarus, you obviously went through a lot of trouble to get my attention," said Yvaine, her face softening, "Is there something I can do to help you?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact there is," replied Alexander his tone light, "I'm terribly hungry, you see, haven't had a decent bite to eat since I was put in this Maker blasted contraption."

Yvaine balked, disgusted at the knowledge this man had gone probably days without eating a morsel, "Why not? I thought all prisoners were fed."

Alexander snorted, "I'm a deserter, and in a time of war I have committed the worst crime imaginable, so I am subjected to the most unbelievable of torture: starvation."

"Death by starvation?" repeated Alistair, "I've heard of that before, but not as something done for deserters, must be something Loghain cooked up to frighten soldiers into behaving."

Alexander laughed bitterly, "Wonderful, not only am I to be branded forever as a deserter, but I get to be an example to the rest of the army not to get on Loghain's bad side."

"At least there's a silver lining," said Alistair dejectedly.

"I think I have some food in my pack," said Yvaine, slinging her pack to the ground gently, reaching around to the front and pulling out chunks of bread she had saved from earlier that morning, "The pieces are a little on the stale side but here's a flagon of water to help wash them down."

"Oh, my lady," said Alexander happily as he graciously accepted the bread and water, "May the Maker rain blessings down on your pretty head for years to come."

Yvaine crossed her arms and bowed slightly to Alexander, something that surprised both him and Alistair, and she began walking once again towards the tent as if what she had done was completely normal. Alistair nodded to Alexander who's mouth was already full to bursting with the bread Yvaine had given him and he jogged to catch up with her, thinking that she was indeed a unique and special individual. While jogging to her position he thought of several questions to ask her on their journey this afternoon, one of which was why she had asked for Alexander's name in the first place when she could have just easily walked away. He joined up with her and quickly fell right back into stride beside her, he was so close to her now he could hear the gentle clinking of the chain mail in her skirt and the small metallic sounds of her sword's handle as it hit her shield.

"Do you know what we're going to be doing for preparations?" asked Yvaine as she looked around her again, her eyes resting on the mages that were arguing with the Chantry priests.

"I'm afraid I can't really tell you much," replied Alistair, choosing his words carefully, not wanting to give much away while at the same time being polite.

Yvaine sighed, giving him a small smile, "I should've known better than to ask, Duncan hasn't been able to answer any of my questions straight out, so it only makes sense that you can't either. I just like knowing what I'm up against, warrior's instinct I guess, mystery is more for a rouge fighter."

Alistair gently reached for her hand, not sure why he did but he felt compelled to touch her in some way, what he was not prepared for was coming face to face with her brown eyes again nearly losing all thought when they rested on his face, "I promise, Yvaine, I will protect you from any harm that might befall you."

Yvaine smiled, she could tell by his tone and the look on his face this was not a promise he was making lightly, "Thank you, Alistair." She lifted herself slightly on her toes and kissed his cheek so softly it was as if her lips had never touched his skin.

Alistair felt his breath catch in his throat, never had he felt such a tender touch on his skin and the effect was calming, taking away all of his anxiety and apprehension about the events that were to come in a matter of minutes. When he felt her lips leave his cheek he looked down at her and saw something in her eyes that had not been there before, there was the sadness he had seen earlier but now it was mingled with what he could only guess was reassurance. They held each other's gaze for what seemed like hours before Yvaine looked away first, and he saw her eyes become clouded by the sadness that had been there before, he secretly hoped that it had been him that had chased away the pain she must be feeling.

"I think we've held up the Joining long enough, don't you?" whispered Yvaine as she turned her head towards the tent.

"Yeah, I guess we have," replied Alistair sadly and they resumed their walk, neither speaking the rest of the way.

* * *

When they arrived to camp at last, Yvaine was greeted by Gawain who eagerly jumped up and rested his paws on her shoulders, licking her face enthusiastically as she laughed and tried to push him down off of her shoulders. Alistair looked on with amusement, he had never seen a Mabari hound behave in this manner before and thought that Yvaine must have brought out something in the creature that was more friendly than fierce.

"Down, boy, down," laughed Yvaine, pushing him down while rubbing his head, "I get that you're happy to see me, but tone it down a bit, alright? There is company around."

Gawain cocked his head and whined, but he then barked happily and trotted back to Duncan's side.

"I'm glad to see you've returned," said Duncan, his eyes flitting to Alistair who was still looking at Yvaine, "and I see you've also found Alistair, I hope he didn't get you into too much trouble."

Alistair scowled at Duncan who merely ignored the look and continued speaking, "I would like to introduce the other two recruits, this is Daveth."

A tall man with dark hair stepped forward, his eyes scanning Yvaine before he spoke, "A pleasure to meet you, I look forward to following you into battle."

"And I you, Daveth," said Yvaine kindly, resisting the urge to slap him, his roaming eyes not having escaped her notice.

Alistair shot daggers at Daveth who quickly averted his gaze elsewhere when he saw Alistair's deadly glare.

"And this is—" started Duncan before Yvaine interrupted.

"Ser Jory!" exclaimed Yvaine rushing forward to the knight, and he to her, when they were within arms reach of each other she outstretched her right hand the same time he did and they grasped forearms.

"Maker's breath! Lady Cousland, I thought you were dead!" exclaimed Ser Jory, his grip tightening on her arm.

"So did I!" laughed Yvaine, glad to see a familiar face in this new environment, "I had no idea you were here, Father didn't mention you had already joined with the Grey Wardens."

"I'm just a recruit, my lady," sighed Ser Jory releasing her arm, "I was sent down here about a week and a half ago actually when Duncan first arrived in Highever, he sought me out after I won that tournament in the city."

"I remember," said Yvaine affectionately, jealousy rising in Alistair by the gentle way she spoke to the knight, "You were indeed a sight to behold that day, my father was quite proud of your performance."

"Please, my lady, you'll make me blush," said Ser Jory, obviously embarrassed by the praise she was showering on him.

Yvaine laughed, "We can't have that, now can we? Tell me, Ser Jory, how is Helena?"

Upon hearing that Ser Jory had a wife, Alistair allowed himself to relax, unsure of why he had been jealous of the knight in the first place.

"Great with child and anxious that I'm here," replied Ser Jory, "I'm selfishly hoping this war will be finished in time for me to make it back to see my new child be born."

"That is a worthy reason to see this war ended," conceded Yvaine and she turned to Duncan who nodded at her words.

"Indeed," said Duncan, "Now that we're all here, we can get preparations underway for the Joining. There are two tasks that you must complete before the sun sets tonight, the first is crucial and must be done quickly, you must collect three vials of darkspawn blood."

Yvaine resisted the urge to retch, she had seen blood before even having drawn it herself in battle, but there was something about the prospect of touching the blood of these unworldly creatures that was rather unappealing to her.

"Where must we go to complete this task?" asked Yvaine, and she could tell by the look on Duncan's face that the answer was not a pleasant one.

"You must venture out into the Korcari Wilds and find the darkspawn," replied Duncan sternly, ignoring the gasps from Ser Jory and Daveth, "I'm not going to lie, this task will not easily be completed, which is why Alistair will be accompanying you while you are out in the Wilds."

Yvaine turned to Alistair briefly and beamed before turning her attention back to Duncan, not seeing the blush creeping into his cheeks.

"What's this second task, Duncan?" asked Yvaine, leaning down to pet Gawain who had trotted over to stand beside her.

"Long ago, the Grey Wardens had a fortress in the Korcari Wilds, it was eventually abandoned and has not been touched in sometime," explained Duncan, "if memory serves me correctly, there were several important documents kept at the fortress even after it was forsaken. Your task is to go to the ruin and collect these documents and bring them back to me."

"What are these documents exactly, Duncan?" asked Yvaine.

"Ancient treaties," replied Duncan, "Ones that the Grey Wardens can use during a Blight, and with this horde as large as it is, I feel it is best to have these on hand just in case it turns out that this is a true Blight."

Yvaine looked at Duncan puzzled, "I thought you said this was a true Blight, Duncan, why change your stance on it now?"

Duncan cleared his throat nervously, "While I might believe this to be indeed a Blight, the King and Loghain do not see it as such, so it is best we tread lightly on the subject and not bring attention to our belief."

Yvaine nodded in understanding, and Duncan continued speaking, "Alright, now that you have your mission, I suggest you stock up on whatever poultices and kits you wish to bring with you. There is a tranquil mage selling supplies to the soldiers, I suggest seeing him if you require any necessary supplies."

"I think I might go and buy Gawain a few treats," said Yvaine, smiling down at the hound, "he doesn't seem to be feeling well."

"How can you tell that?" asked Daveth, "Your hound seems so cheerful."

"I can just tell," replied Yvaine simply, shrugging her shoulders.

"I'm afraid that would be my doing," said Duncan apologetically, "In order to prepare your hound for fighting darkspawn, I had to expose him to some of their blood, it was older and less potent than fresh but still able to begin building a resistance. The more darkspawn blood he is exposed to, the greater his resistance will be, right now though he should be fine against a few darkspawn."

Yvaine sighed, "Well, I guess it had to be done if I want him at my side in battle."

"I will dosage him again soon, so he will have to remain here at camp," said Duncan, "but until you leave he can follow you around if he wishes though he must be brought back to me when you are ready to depart."

"Understood," said Yvaine and she tapped her hand on her thigh a few times to get the hound's attention, "Come on, boy, lets get you a couple of treats to make you feel better."

Gawain bounded around on the ground a few times, barking happily before joining Yvaine's side and walking with her to the mage who was selling goods, sniffing the ground as if searching for something of interest. Yvaine smiled at her hound, even now she could recall the day her father had brought him and his brother to the castle, she had fallen in love with Gawain right away but Fergus had demanded he be given to him since he was the bigger of the two. She had protested of course, offering to duel Fergus for the pup and he had accepted her challenge with a smirk, obviously he had thought he would be the winner of the fight. She still could see the confused and embarrassed look in Fergus's eyes when she had knocked him on his arse after just a few quick strokes with her blade and a couple of hits with her shield. They had laughed afterwards, along with their father whom had been overseeing the bout, and Fergus handed her Gawain telling her she had earned him fair and square. Yvaine felt a tightness in her chest, remembering how things used to be was just another reminder of what Howe had taken from her and her family, his treachery now poisoning even the happiest of memories. Instead of dwelling on this, she thought of what it would be like to go venturing in the Korcari Wilds, what adventures were to be had, and what witty banter she and Alistair would come up with.

Alistair watched them leave, his stomach churning and he felt lightheaded, he wanted to warn her about what was to come but knew Duncan would tan his hide for revealing the events of the Joining to someone who might not live through the ritual.

"I can't believe she's here," he heard Ser Jory whisper to Daveth, "after all that's happened, I would've thought she'd have been in the Wilds by now looking for her brother."

"What do you mean, Ser Jory?" asked Alistair, rounding to the knight, who stopped speaking the moment Alistair looked at him.

"It's nothing, Alistair," stammered the knight as he fidgeted with his gloves.

"If it was nothing then you'd have already told me," said Alistair testily, "now what did you mean, Ser Jory?"

Ser Jory hesitated before answering right away, "I'm surprised she hadn't said something to you before now, I mean the story's been traveling around the camp since before she arrived. Now, I'm not sure of the details, but it appears that Arl Howe attacked Cousland Castle while staying there as a guest. His knights attacked the family including the Teryn's grandson and daughter-in-law, it was thought the only survivor was the Teryn's oldest son Fergus since he had arrived here before the attack, I'm glad to see that last part wasn't true. Apparently it was Duncan who rescued her, she was forced to leave her mother and father behind at her family home, and traveled here."

"She's one tough woman, she is," said Daveth admirably.

Alistair wanted to be sick, but he managed to stave it off enough to continue the conversation, "Has her brother been found yet?"

Ser Jory shook his head, "As far as I know he hasn't been located yet, but the King personally issued a small troop to go and find him, they left a few hours ago."

"Excuse me, I have to go speak to Duncan about a few last minute details," said Alistair, again fighting the rising nausea in his throat and he ran off in search of Duncan who seemed to have left after Yvaine had. He found Duncan sitting behind the tent, his head in his hands, Alistair was shocked at the sight and knew something must have been troubling him a great deal for him to be displaying such distress.

Duncan looked up when he heard Alistair's footsteps, "Alistair, is there something I can help you with?"

"Are you alright?" asked Alistair forgetting for a moment his anger.

Duncan sighed heavily, "I'm as well as I can be, given the circumstances, I've been wanting to speak with you actually."

"With me? Whatever for?" asked Alistair baffled by his mentor's statement.

"I saw the way you looked at Yvaine a few minutes ago," said Duncan sternly, "You know this might not go the way you want it to, Alistair, so I cannot stress enough to you to keep your personal feelings in check at least for now."

Alistair felt a rush of anger hit him, "I'm perfectly aware of that, Duncan, and believe me when I say I am being quite reserved around Yvaine. No proposals of marriage yet, nor have I sung of her beauty like the bards."

Duncan chuckled warmly, "I believe you, Alistair, and I want to see her succeed just as much as you do especially after all she has been through these last few days."

"So it's all true?" whispered Alistair, "Her family was murdered, save her brother, and you rescued her from that fate?"

"Yes," said Duncan sadly, "I was there that night, and watched a girl transform into a mature young woman in a matter of seconds, a sight I hope to never see again to be perfectly honest. She's a strong woman, not as seasoned a warrior as you, but she has potential and a natural ability I have not seen in any soldier save for you."

Alistair relaxed at Duncan's words, he knew taking her here immediately after the attack had not been easy for Duncan, "Do you think she'll survive?"

Duncan was quiet for a few moments, carefully contemplating his answer, "Yes, I do, but I can always be wrong so do not take my word as fact, Alistair. Now, it is time you and the rest were off, there is much to be done and not a lot of time left."

"Of course, Duncan," said Alistair his voice stern as he turned back to the group, all three were now talking amongst each other, Ser Jory was helping Yvaine transfer a few items into a smaller pack. He watched her with great interest, the way her hair refused to cooperate with her as several long strands were blown around in the wind, how her eyes sparkled in the sunlight, what intrigued him the most was the easy way she laughed despite all that had transpired. If he had been in that situation, he doubted that even his cynical attitude and jokes could have gotten him through it, Maker knows he had struggled enough with Arl Eamon taking him to the Chantry. He looked at her again and felt his heart ache, she was the strongest woman he had ever met and tonight he might lose her altogether without ever having really known her. Alistair shook his head, mentally chastising himself for being pessimistic yet again, he instead remembered Duncan's words and the belief that Yvaine might survive. That thought would get him through these next few crucial hours, and perhaps he could take this opportunity to get to know Yvaine a little better, to have at least a few memories to hold onto should the worst happen.


End file.
